


By the fire

by angylinni



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angylinni/pseuds/angylinni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta and Katniss spend an evening by the fireplace, enjoying a gift from Johanna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Court81981](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Court81981/gifts).



> written for Court81981 for volunteering her services as a beta for the Hunger Games Secret Santa exchange.

The light from the fire in the hearth caressed her skin like lover’s hands, highlighting the soft curve of her breast and the long length of her thigh.  Peeta lifted his brush, laying on another stroke of color to the painting in front of him. 

“You do realize this would be a lot more comfortable if you were down here with me, right?” Katniss said from her perch on the floor, one slim thigh covered by the thick bearskin rug that Johanna had sent them last year as a wedding present.

Peeta chuckled, dipping his brush into the white on his palette before swirling it into the mix of colors he’d done for the firelight on the white fur.  “But then I’d never finish the painting and we’re having guests for dinner tomorrow night, do you really want them seeing this?”

Katniss flushed a dull red from her cheeks to her chest, dropping her head back onto the floor.  “No,” she said petulantly.  “But I’m cold and lonely,”

“Put your head back up, I’m almost finished,” he said, picking up another brush out of the jar next to him and dipping it into the vermillion blob on the palette.  The fire was casting beautiful highlights in her dark hair and he wanted to capture them before he got too distracted by the soft swell of her breast peeking out from the soft, white fur.  Two more gentle strokes and he sat back, dropping the brush into the jar of thinner at his elbow.  “There, it’s done, now all it has to do is dry and I can hang it in our bedroom.”

“In the bedroom?” Katniss squeaked.  “Why?”

Peeta rose from his stool and stretched, letting his gaze rest on her supine form while he worked the kinks from his back.  “So I can look at it.”

A wicked grin curved her lips.  “Naughty.”

He walked slowly over to where she lay and began stripping off his clothes, pulling a sprig of mistletoe from his pocket before setting the pants aside.  When he was naked, he bent over her, holding the mistletoe above her head.

Katniss leaned up, sealing her lips to his as her arms wound around his body, pulling him down against her.  Even after all their time together, she never got tired of the feeling of him against her.  It anchored her, tethering her to the here and now where she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was loved for who she was inside, not the façade that Plutarch and the rest of the rebellion had crafted for her.

Peeta slid his fingers through her hair, as he deepened the kiss, slanting his lips over hers again and again, his leg sliding between hers, teasing against the soft curls at the apex of her thighs.

She sighed into his mouth, her hand curling around the back of his neck to play in the soft curls at his nape.  She loved his hair, the way it felt sliding against her fingers.  It was so much softer than her own.  His lips left hers and kissed a path down to where her shoulder joined her neck, lingering on the leaping pulsepoint.

“Think Jo had any idea we’d be using the rug this way when she sent it to us?” Katniss asked, breath hitching as he moved further down her body, sucking one taut nipple into the dense heat of his mouth.

He released her skin with a sharp pop and grinned up at her.  “Of course she did.  Jo never does anything without thinking every possible conclusion through to the end.”

Katniss laughed, running her nails lightly up his arms as he moved to settle between her thighs.  “You’re right, of course.”

“So, are we gonna put it to good use, or not?” he asked with a grin, flexing his hips against hers.

“Oh yeah,” she said, slipping her arms further up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down towards her.

He entered her slowly; pushing into her as their gazes locked, foreheads pressed together, breath mingling.  The slow burn that had been building the entire time he’d been painting her grew into a conflagration that exploded out from her center, burned along her nerves, licking fire and need in its wake.

Her nails dug lightly into his back as he moved achingly slow, rolling his hips against hers in an endless wave that had her gasping and panting his name, back arched, hips rising to meet his.

His hands framed her face, bringing her back flush to the rug, lips slanting over hers, mimicking the movements of their lower bodies.  She never felt closer to him than when they were locked together like this, striving towards ecstasy, knowing just where to touch, or kiss to bring them both to the heights of pleasure.

The wave of pleasure he’d built swamped her, washing over her again and again, thighs quivering, and the tips of her fingers tingling.  He followed her moments later, her name ghosting from his lips as he buried them in her hair.


End file.
